Fallen Friend
by wild-springflower
Summary: Jim was breathing heavily, his whole body trembling. When he glanced up at the group of them, Leonard's heart shattered, and any hope he'd been kindling that maybe whatever had happened on that planet hadn't been catastrophic died. -Warning for character death!- My tribute to Anton Yelchin.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello. So I know this is a little late, considering Anton's been gone for a few months now, but this is just an idea that's been playing around in my mind. It's sort of my tribute to him, and his beloved character. This isn't going to be very long, three chapters at most probably, but I'm warning you now, it is not happy.**

 **So, I guess just before I'm done I'd like to say that this is for Anton, you were a wonderful ray of sunshine that I personally never had the pleasure of knowing, and you will be sorely missed.**

Leonard honestly didn't know how things had gone to shit so quickly. Jim and Chekov had literally _just_ beamed down to the planet! Then suddenly sirens had started wailing, people were shouting, and then everything went silent. They had no connection to the planet, _at all_. No way of knowing what had happened, if they were both okay, and it was pissing the doctor off to no end.

"Doctor, pacing back and forth will not help to solve the current situation." Spock said to him on his fifth round across the bridge. It was as close to annoyed as Leonard had ever heard the Vulcan.

"Yeah? Well it helps my nerves."

Uhura cursed and banged at her work station in frustration, still apparently unable to get ahold of either of their crewmates.

Leonard paused in his pacing momentarily to glance her direction in shock, he'd never heard her sweat before, and from the surprised divot in Sulu's forehead, he hadn't either.

"Still nothing! I don't understand, there doesn't seem to be something jamming our frequencies, they're just not getting through."

Spock's gaze remained fixed on his work station, reading some scientific mumbo-jumbo that McCoy had no chance of understanding. "It does not appear as if their atmosphere is causing the disruption."

"Maybe it's something they've built." Sulu suggested, flopping back against the captain's seat in frustration. He was full of bottled frustration and anger, and he wished he had an alien species he could take it out on.

"Nothing suggested this species was capable of such advanced technology." Spock responded without missing a beat.

"Yeah cause we've never been wrong about that type of thing before." Leonard spat back, turning to make a sixth cross of the bridge.

Spock had just turned back to McCoy when Uhura shouted in surprise, "I have them! Or, at least one of them. The signal is weak and it's fluctuating."

"Mr. Scott are you able to beam them back aboard from the signal Lieutenant Uhura has found?" Spock called into the comms, forgetting his conversation with Leonard immediately.

Leonard for his part, didn't much care what the Vulcan's retort was going to be, he was too focused on listening for the Chief Engineer's answer.

"I do believe so Commander!" Came the heavily accented voice, and that was all he'd needed to hear before he was making a beeline for the lift door, Spock, Uhura, and Sulu hot on his tails. Never mind that they had ultimately left the bridge under the command of some of the other, less experienced crew members. They could hold the fort long enough for the rest of them to check on the status of their friends.

The four anxious members of the bridge crew had just shoved their way into the transporter room when the floor lit up and the familiar swirls began to take the form of a body. But only one.

Leonard couldn't even breathe, his breath caught in his throat as he waited impatiently for the transporter to finish, so he could assess whoever they'd been able to find for injuries, so he could start to _fix_ things.

Scotty stood and quickly made his way over to the rest of the group, shuffling his feet nervously. When the atoms finally settled everyone gasped in unity, staring wide-eyed down at the crumpled form of their captain on the transporter pad.

Jim was breathing heavily, his whole body trembling. When he glanced up at the group of them, Leonard's heart shattered, and any hope he'd been kindling that maybe whatever had happened on that planet hadn't been _catastrophic_ died. Jim's eyes were wide and red, the too-blue irises shinning in the light, and fresh tear-streaks tracking their way down his cheeks.

He took them in for a moment before he seemed to crumple in on himself, curling into an even tighter ball as heavy sobs wracked his frame.

Leonard rushed forward and crashed to his knees before his best friend, gently prodding at the man to assess his injuries and hopefully find out what exactly had happened down there. "Hey, hey come on Jim, shhh. Shhshhhshh. Talk to me, what's going on? What happened?"

Jim shook his head, barely able to talk past the tears. "We didn't even- we didn't talk to them. We didn't even talk to them!"

"Okay kiddo, deep breaths." Leonard coached, rubbing gentle circles up and down Jim's arms.

Scotty and Sulu met nervous glances, both worried about the events that had transpired to lead to this. Uhura was breathing heavily between them, her mind having already jumped to a conclusion that she prayed was false.

"They had some sort of- weapon." Jim's hands flailed halfheartedly, deciding on the word when he couldn't think of any other way to describe whatever it was he'd been attacked by. "They were firing at us before we'd even fully materialized."

"The natives were hostile towards you?" Spock prodded gently, his eyebrows drawing closer together.

Jim simply nodded, his breath hitching in his throat.

Finally Leonard decided to ask the question that was on all their minds, the one whose answer they were fearing, dreading. "Jim, what happened to Chekov?"

Jim's body froze, his hazy eyes glancing up to look at each of his bridge crew in turn. More tears welled up and began to cascade down his already rosy cheeks, "I tried." He breathed before he was overtaken by more sobs, his whole body deflating into Leonard's strong grip. "I tried, I tried." He continued to whisper, shaking his head in utter despair.

Uhura gasped and felt tears sliding down her own face, she couldn't say she was surprised by the news, she just wished she'd been wrong. Scotty reached out to her and grasped her shoulder, almost as if he needed some way to stabilize himself, the news knocking the air out of him. Sulu simply blinked rapidly at the ceiling, his chin trembling ever so slightly. Spock was the only one who didn't show an outward reaction. Even Leonard felt tears prickling at his own eyes.

"Do you think-" McCoy had to pause as his voice wavered, "Do you think we'll be able to go down there, get his body?"

Jim's gasped harshly, tortured eyes snapping up to look at his best friend, "There's nothing left!" He wailed.

He'd quickly begun to hyperventilate after that, he was completely unable to get his breathing under control and was being assaulted by tears.

"Spock, my bag." Leonard demanded, indicating the medical bag he'd dropped by the stairs of the transporter.

The Vulcan obliged swiftly, handing him the medical supplies he needed. Leonard rummaged through the bag for a second before he found the hypo he was looking for, then plunged the needle into Jim's neck.

It took a moment for the meds to take effect, but soon Jim's body was slumping forward in unconsciousness, his breathing thankfully evening out.

Without even being asked, Spock hefted Jim's limp form into his arms and headed down to the med bay, he'd need to be fully checked over for injuries and would most certainly need a friendly face when he awoke.

McCoy released a long, haggard breath, suddenly feeling ten times older than he actually was. He glanced up at the stricken faces of his fellow crew, all of them in varying degrees of shock or sorrow. He rubbed his hands over his face, choosing to remain seated for just a little while longer. He honestly couldn't believe it, he'd _just_ talked to the kid not that long ago. How had this happened?


	2. Chapter 2

It took a decent amount of time for the medication to wear off. The bridge crew simply sat around the bed in the medical bay, too shocked to really do much of anything else. McCoy had taken up residence closest to Jim's bed, that way he could be there immediately should anything happen. Sulu had nestled himself in the upper left corner, his legs just barely brushing against the privacy curtain that had been drawn around the area. And Scotty and Uhura sat together at the foot of Jim's bed, hands clasped firmly between them. Spock had excused himself not long after the rest of them had arrived to go take care of things on the bridge. He'd seemed to be his normal collected self, it was only because of the three years they'd spent together that anyone was able to tell how upset he truly was at the loss of their friend.

There wasn't much of a warning before Jim awoke with a deep breath. His eyes just sort of fluttered open and immediately made a round of the room, taking everyone in. Bones, hand resting gently against Jim's knee, eyes dark and tired. Uhura, tear streaks still lining her face, smeared make-up creating a ring of black around her eyes. Scotty's eyes were puffy and he was sniffling occasionally. Sulu was staring darkly at the floor, picking at a loose string on his shirt.

They all looked so lost, so confused. He supposed he probably looked the same, his heart felt heavy and black, his eyes too dry to even shed any more tears. He parted dry, cracked lips but paused before he'd uttered a syllable. There was nothing to say, nothing he _could_ say. Nothing was going to make this better, nothing at all.

Finally Uhura broke the silence, skipping all pleasantries and getting right to the point, which he was fine with. What were they supposed to say, 'hey, how's it going?' "Jim we-could you-" She had to stop as her voice became thick with emotion and her eyes watered once more.

"We want to know how he died." Sulu spat, finally tearing the string off with a harsh tug.

"Yeah of course." Jim replied, his voice hollow. He figured they'd want to know details, they had every right to know, Chekov had been their friend too. He inhaled deeply through his nose, licking his lips before beginning, "We beamed down, and before we were even fully on the planet, something shot directly between us. It took out an entire tree, just- reduced it to ashes. We tried to reach the ship but nothing was working, so we were gonna try running to high ground."

Scotty nodded softly at the idea, knowing that when there was interference on a planet, it usually helped for them to get as far from the planet's core as possible.

"We were running up to the top of the hill when one tackled me from behind." No one cared enough to ask what the aliens had looked like, some details were just meaningless. "Chekov turned back, he wanted to try and help. I yelled at him to keep going, that'd I'd meet him up there."

Jim paused and Leonard found his gaze drifting up to his friend's face. He was saddened to see how dark Jim's normally vibrant eyes were. There was always a light behind them, a keenness that couldn't be faked and a fire that couldn't be extinguished. Presently though, they were just dead.

"He listened. And," Jim released a shaky breath at the memory he was reliving but his eyes still refused to drip, "they fired the weapon. One second he was there, running up the hill and yelling into the communicator and the next-" The Captain simply shrugged, shaking his head softly against the pillow behind him. "He was just gone."

A breath escaped Uhura's lips as her eyes shut tight, her face contorting in a visual representation of the pain she was feeling inside. Scotty simply gripped her hand more tightly, water dripping down his face.

"So he didn't suffer?" Sulu whispered, his voice small and hesitant. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer, if his friend's death had been in agony or not. There wasn't much he could do about it now anyway.

Jim shook his head numbly, "I don't think so. It was pretty quick, so."

"It's not your fault you know." Uhura stated with a sniff, tears were once again flowing down her face and she wiped at them even as her gaze remained focused on her hurting Captain.

Somehow those words were enough to reawaken Jim's previously dry tear-ducts, and he felt the burning of liquid rising behind his eyes. "Of course it's my fault." He spoke, voice cracking.

"Oh Jim," Leonard sighed heavily, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on his friend's knee.

"Laddie, you cannae blame yourself."

"Except it's _my_ job to protect you guys out there. I'm supposed to look out for my crew and- "

"You did." Sulu interrupted suddenly, halting Jim's tirade short. "You did what you thought was best, what you thought would give him the best chance. Jim, telling him to run instead of going back for you, I don't think any of us can say that we would have done something different."

The other three in the room gave nods of agreement and Jim couldn't contain the sob that escaped his throat. Slowly, Leonard maneuvered Jim upwards and into his arms, holding the crying man close and rubbing gentle circles across his quaking back.

There was a sudden depression in the bed and soon a second warm presence was leaning against Jim's leg, and then another by his feet, and a third on his other side. He opened his eyes to see his crew, his friends, his _family_ sitting around him.

They were all connected, more deeply than they probably ever had been before. Connected by their helplessness and their grief. By their desire to _do_ something and the knowledge that there was simply nothing that could be done.

 **A/N: Okay, hello guys. Once again I apologize for how potentially sad this is. There's gonna be one more chapter after this, and then we'll call it quits. For now though, let me know what you thought and I hope I didn't cause too many tears! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

Jim's eyes were dry as the desert as he stepped in front of the crew. It'd been little over a week since their catastrophic away mission; it was time to say their last regards to their crewmate. "Chekov, he was more than just a crewmember. He was an integral part of this ship, of our lives. We shared many moments, some happy, some not. I think we can all agree that no matter what, Chekov was someone we could always count on. He was dependable, and smart, and strong. A fierce loyal member of our crew. He was our friend, our family, and this ship is better because of him. We are _all_ better for having known him. So here's to Pavel Chekov, may you rest in peace."

A chorus of "here here's" or "To Chekov's" erupted around the large area, everyone raising a glass and saying a toast to honor their lost friend. Scotty stepped forward with a plaque, a small simple thing, with Chekov's name on it, his smiling picture, and his date of birth and death. It was hung on the wall, specially secured alongside all the other crewmembers that had passed in the line of duty so it couldn't fall, and then just like that, the ceremony was over.

Sure, people lingered and decided to mingle, converse in quiet solemn tones to one another, but Jim couldn't handle that just then. He'd done enough crying in front of people to last him a lifetime, he just wanted to go curl up in his bedroom and drown in his sorrows alone, thank you very much.

Leonard counted three minutes before he decided to follow, quietly excusing himself and hopefully not drawing too much attention to himself so he could go to Jim's room. He paused outside Jim's door momentarily, listening, before he knocked gently.

"Hey Bones." Jim called without even seeing who was outside, he didn't have to see, the two knew each other that well by now.

"Hey." McCoy responded tiredly as he pushed the unlocked door open, a part of him knowing he was the reason it had been left unlocked. It wasn't like he couldn't get in the room anyway, medical override and all, so why waste the time locking to door to begin with? Jim was sitting on the corner of his bed, command gold shirt discarded and shoes dropped haphazardly. "How you doing?"

Jim shrugged, actually seeming to take the time to do an honest assessment. "Okay I guess."

Leonard nodded softly before taking a seat next to his best friend. "That was a pretty good speech you gave."

Jim simply sighed tersely, not meeting the doctor's gaze. "I shouldn't have had to give it in the first place!" He spat heatedly.

Leonard, for his part, wasn't all that startled by the sudden outburst. He'd been expecting it. "It wasn't your fault you know." He was hoping that Jim was over the whole 'blaming himself for everyone's injuries' thing, and obviously there was a difference between a broken arm and death, but he still couldn't be blaming himself.

"I know." Jim responded somewhat forcefully.

An eyebrow rose in disbelief, "You _know_?"

"What do you want me to say?" Jim hissed, finally turning to face Bones with the most cracked mask the doctor had ever seen. "I know there's no use in _blaming_ myself, but I still can't help but feel responsible! I just wish I could've done something." He finished in a whisper, the anger leaving him in a heavy sigh.

Leonard looked on in sympathy he refused to show externally, knowing Jim hated receiving anything he could perceive as pity. "I know, I think it's safe to say we all do."

"But you weren't there, I was! I mean, maybe if I'd-"

"Goddammit Jim," McCoy cut off with an annoyed groan, "You can't start in on the maybe's and what if's. You _can't_. They'll tear ya apart."

Jim paused, his wide eyes drifting up to McCoy in a mixture of surprise and denial, but in the end he knew the man was right. And just like that his mask fell, his eyes watered and quickly spilled over, a heart-wrenching sob tearing its way from his throat.

Leonard sighed softly, extending his arms to wrap around Jim and hold him close. The young captain shook violently in his arms, heavy sobs wracking his small frame. He was releasing all the agony and fear and guilt he'd been feeling since beaming back aboard the ship, and McCoy knew he just had to ride it out, let Jim settle down on his own. No amount of false reassurances would be able to calm him.

As the tears finally subsided and the choking gasping breaths had been reduced to little more than uncontrollable hiccups, Jim finally tried talking. "It's ju-just s-so ha-har-hard. It'ss not fair and it-it hurts."

"Yeah it does." Leonard agreed quietly, rubbing circles across Jim's shaking back. "It's probably gonna hurt for a while."

"I know." Jim whispered, all too acquainted with the inner workings of grief.

Suddenly there was a small knock on the door, and Jim was quick to wipe away the tears, taking a deep breath before he called with a moderately shaky voice, "Enter."

The door opened to reveal the rest of the bridge crew standing there, differing variations of grief reflected on their faces. Even Spock's eyes shown with a deeper sadness than usual.

"Hey." Jim called with the best smile he could muster, his surprise at their presence evident.

"Hey." Uhura responded on behalf of the group. "Mind if we join you?"

Jim immediately maneuvered to make more room on the bed, Leonard scooting over with him. "Of course, have a seat."

Uhura smiled gently and entered the room, the others following on her heels. She glanced about the slightly messy living space, Jim following her gaze with an embarrassed chuckle.

"Sorry about the mess."

"No, it's cozy." Uhura was quick to amend.

The room lapsed into silence as each of the four of them found a space for themselves on Jim's bed. It was more than slightly cramped, but none of them were willing to move, too comforted by the close contact of their friends to complain.

"That was a really nice speech." Sulu whispered eventually, just to break the silence.

Scotty nodded in agreement, "Did the lad justice."

Jim smiled at that, his heart giving a little flip of joy. He'd been so nervous about his dedication to Chekov, unsure whether or not the speech was good enough. Knowing his and Chekov's closest friends aboard the ship had thought he'd done a good job warmed his heart. "Thanks."

The group lapsed into a companionable silence, everyone simply relishing in the warmth of the body lying next to them on Jim's bed. It was slightly awkward if not comfortable, and probably would have been an amusing sight for anyone to walk in on, but they didn't care.

"He was _so_ bad drunk." Sulu finally whispered, his voice thick and tired but with a hint of a smile in it.

Scotty made a guttural noise of agreement, "But he could drink so much! The little bugger bested me on more than one occasion!"

"I just remember the singin'." Bones added, wincing from the memory.

Jim simply chuckled, "Oh yeah, I used to sing with him sometimes."

"Yeah, and unfortunately, neither of you had any talent!" Uhura cut in, nudging Jim with her elbow playfully.

"I thought we did a really job on some of those Russian lullabies!" Jim cried defensively.

"Jim," Spock, began, joining the conversation for the first time that evening, "You are a man of many talents, however, singing is not one of them."

"And the Vulcan weighs in, there ya have it Jim, you can't sing."

"Boooones." Jim whined, pouting only slightly. "You know I don't like it when you guys gang up on me."

The group laughed, the room seeming to settle, and then they all fell silent. One by one they fell asleep, curled up against one another on a bed that barely fit one comfortably.

It was some hours later when Jim awoke. The room was dark, and filled with the steady breathing of his friends. He glanced over each of them, smiling at how much more relaxed they all looked in sleep, none of the lines of grief that had been taking over their faces present.

Suddenly overcome with a deep ache in his heart at his missing member, Jim expertly detangled himself from the group and made his way silently out the door. He wandered about for a little while, lost in thought, but eventually found himself standing exactly where he needed to be. He stared up at the wall full of plagues, sighing at how sad it all was.

He heard the soft steady steps of Spock before the Vulcan could even announce himself, this late and no one was really up and moving about the _Enterprise_.

"Is this really it? All we amount to is a name on a plaque? How meaningless is that?" He decided to start before Spock could even offer a greeting.

"It is as meaning _ful_ or _less_ as we make it." Spock responded softly, stopping to stand beside his Captain.

"I just-I can't help but feel like this was all so dumb. What great cause did he die for ya know?"

"Not everyone can sacrifice themselves for a purpose larger than themselves Jim. Sometimes people simply die, and there is no rhyme or reason."

Jim smiled mirthlessly, nudging Spock with his elbow, "Hey, that's one of ours." He joked, referring to his choice of phrase.

Spock swayed with the movement, even looked to be smiling in the dim light. "I figured the common phrase from your vernacular was particularly applicable to this scenario."

The lighthearted moment was short-lived, and Jim sighed heavily as reality once again crashed down upon him. "So what now?"

"There are a great deal many things to attend to in the not too distant future, to which is the 'now' that you are referring?"

It was bait, Spock attempting to get a rise out of him, but for once Jim wasn't in the mood. "How do we just go on living our lives, completing our missions, as if he was never here?"

Spock took a moment before he responded, letting Jim's words sink in. "I do not believe we should necessarily live as if Chekov was never among us. On the contrary, I believe we should live each day in honor of his sacrifice."

"What happens when the pain becomes bearable, and then we stop thinking about him? What happens if we forget him?"

Again Spock paused, this time to level his gentle, knowing gaze on Jim. "Chekov will always be a part of our crew and our family. He has touched our lives in ways that I believe we are not even fully aware of yet. The pain will subside eventually, however, his memory will live on. After all, he cannot truly be forgotten if we remember him."

Spock dipped his head before making his way back down the hallway, apparently having said what he'd come there to say. Jim watched him go before turning his gaze back to the wall, a smiling picture of Chekov staring back at him.

Losing Chekov had hurt, almost as much as losing any of the other crew members that had earned plagues up on that wall. He felt slightly guilty saying _almost_ in regards to the other fallen crew, it wasn't as if their sacrifice was worth any less, and he'd felt truly awful after each death, but with Chekov- Jim sighed, somehow it still hurt worse.

But there was nothing he could do now, he had made his decisions, each and every one of them culminating in the away mission that had taken Chekov's life. There were so many what-if's and if only's, so many scenarios and possibilities for things to have turned out differently. But he couldn't live in the past, it wouldn't do anyone any good.

So they'd carry on, finish their mission, and remember. Jim sniffed slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, knowing that was what Chekov would have wanted.

"Gone, but not forgotten. _Never_ forgotten." He promised.

And in the abandoned hallway, Jim stepped back, and saluted. Saluted every single crew member who had died in the line of duty. Who had died doing something they loved and believed in. Their stories would live on, in the memories of the people who loved them. Gone, but never forgotten.

 **A/N: There we have it. Once again I apologize for the feels, although this chapter was a bit better right? Maybe? *sigh* Seriously though, rest in peace Anton, we will miss you and your portrayal of such an iconic character. You have become Chekov to a whole new generation, and that is an amazing feat. You will be missed, but your legacy will live on in Trek fans all across the world. 3**


End file.
